


you're the target that i'm aiming at

by sophwrites



Series: your heart is a river that flows from your chest [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Pining, jonathan and nancy gave me the runaround with this fic big time!!!!!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 05:46:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7788997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophwrites/pseuds/sophwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter what, she’ll always be there for him and knows he'll always be there for her, too.</p><p><i>It would just be nice to add some kissing to that equation every once in a while,</i> Nancy thinks to herself and smirks. <i>Surely that’s not too much to ask?</i></p><p>It takes time, but eventually Nancy and Jonathan make their way back to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you're the target that i'm aiming at

**Author's Note:**

> I cannot believe this fic is somehow longer than the last one! Title is from A Message by Coldplay. I would also like to point out I am a Brit, so if I butcher any Americanisms, I am so sorry. Other than that, enjoy!

If there’s one thing Nancy Wheeler hates, it’s waiting around. She’s not a particularly impulsive girl by any stretch of the imagination, but when there’s something she wants—she’s determined to get it _fast_.

There’s a part of her that’s been feeling that way about Jonathan, lately.

Lying back on her bed, she stretches out and thinks about all the things that have transpired since last November. How much and in what ways all of them have changed.

The keen sting of losing Barb has lessened to a duller ache, but she still thinks about her every day, and she’s been broken up with Steve for a few months now. Jonathan hasn’t made any definitive moves yet, not that she’d expected him to, but she’s torn between enjoying the build up and wanting him to just _get on with it already._

Then again, she has to admit there’s something almost fun about tiptoeing around each other; seeing how far one will push until the other pushes back. Only gently, though.

Nancy thinks they’ve both had enough brutality to last a lifetime.

Right now, they have longing looks, tentative brushing of hands. Sometimes she deliberately leans into him, feels him lean back. Sometimes he puts his arm around her when they’re alone; when she’s feeling sad or tired or just because he wants to, really. It’s totally different to her relationship with Steve. It’s slow and burning, the butterflies starting low in her stomach when she thinks of Jonathan. It’s their secret smiles, his ones bashful as he looks at her from underneath his fringe. It’s sharing music and letting him take photographs of her because according to him, _the light around you is perfect right now, so stay still._

There will be something beautiful about them, Nancy knows. Like watching scenery pass by when driving fast, or watching dust floating in an early morning half-light.

They’re abstract, and as much as Nancy loves what they have now, she wants _more_.

She and Steve had been tumultuous, almost. She’d seen him, she’d wanted him, and she’d made _sure_ that he wanted her back. With Jonathan, even now, Nancy finds him hard to read sometimes. He’s good at keeping his emotions hidden, and he’s more than once hinted that it’s because he’s afraid to get hurt—to be abandoned again.

Having a dad who walks out on you would do that, Nancy supposes. Her dad may not be the best, but he’s around. He lets his children be, for the most part, no matter what he privately thinks of them.

Nancy knows life has been difficult for Jonathan ever since he was young, far more difficult than her life, at least. More than anything, she just wants to help take the weight of the world off his shoulders.

No matter what, she’ll always be there for him and knows he'll always be there for her, too.

 _It would just be nice to add some kissing to that equation every once in a while,_ Nancy thinks to herself and smirks. _Surely that’s not too much to ask?_

  
  
  
  
  


The next day, the two of them are sitting next to each other on the couch and studying—actually studying—in her living room when Nancy decides she’s going to have to take matters into her own hands. If she wants anything to happen, she realises she’s going to have to get it done herself.

“Wait, show me that flashcard again,” Jonathan says distractedly as he sorts through his own pile of flashcards. Nancy’s rubbing off on him, apparently. The idea makes her smile.

Nancy says, “Here,” and hands it to him, letting her hand linger, the touch of their fingers deliberate. Jonathan lets his hand rest against hers for a moment before pulling back and reading the card.

Nancy sighs.

He clears his throat and she looks up to find him already looking at her, a slight grimace on his face. “Um.”

“What is it?”

“Well...” Jonathan looks like he’s about to break some really bad news, and it’s scaring her. All thoughts of potentially wooing him are temporarily put on hold.

“Jonathan, what is it?” She asks again.

“I hate to break it to you, but...” He waves the flashcard. “The answer you wrote on this. It’s wrong.”

She scoffs, looking offended. “No it’s not.”

“I think it is.” He’s looking a little smug, like he’s laughing at her. Nancy isn’t having any of it.

“No, the answer is chlorine ions. What’s wrong with that?”

Jonathan hates chemistry anyway; she’s not even sure why he took it in the first place. So him correcting her on a subject she’s actually really good at, _thank you very much_ , is quite annoying.

“I think you’ll find the correct term is actually _chloride_ ions, not _chlorine_ ions.”

There’s a pause, then Nancy says: “I hate you so much.”

He’s laughing then, eyes and smile wide. “What? You could lose marks for that! I’m only trying to help.” He’s still chuckling as she half-heartedly pushes at his shoulder, unable to hide her own smile.

She sets about making a new card (because there will be _no_ crossing out and rewriting; her cards have to be _perfect_ ) when her mother peeks her head around the door.

“Are you staying for dinner, Jonathan?”

He looks unsure as he says, “Is that okay?”

“Of course!” Karen replies, looking between him and her daughter. “We’d love to have you.”

She disappears again and then Nancy says, still looking at her cards, “I don’t know why you say that every time. She never minds, and you’ve had dinner here loads of times.”

“I know,” Jonathan says timidly, in total contrast with the sudden rhythmic and somewhat frantic tapping of his foot. “I just feel bad. I don’t want anyone to think I come here just for a free meal or something.”

Nancy looks up then, her brow furrowing. “No one thinks that, okay? I mean it.”

“Okay.”

It seems like he’s going to leave it there when he starts talking again. “It’s just... My mom’s working the late shift again tonight and Will’s sleeping over at Dustin’s. I’m surprised my mom _allowed_ him to go to a sleepover on a school night, but I guess she prefers it when they’re together... Safety in numbers. I just... I’m not really looking forward to going home to any empty house, I guess.”

Nancy doesn’t even think about it before she says, “You can stay here.”

Jonathan stares at her. She can feel the tips of her ears going pink, glad he can’t see them because her hair is down. Nancy’s not quite sure where that came from, but she refuses to take it back.

“Um... What?”

“You heard me.” Then she lowers her voice so as to make sure they’re not overheard. She leans closer to Jonathan and he involuntarily leans in too, like they’re children whispering a secret. “If you don’t want to go home to any empty house, then stay here.”

“Are you serious?” He asks her, eyebrows raising slightly.

“Yeah, just... Have dinner. Leave through the front door. Then park your car somewhere my parents won’t see it and climb back in through the window.”

He’s looking at her in disbelief. “What—what about in the morning?”

“I’ll tell my mom you’re coming over to drive me to school, so you can just leave through the window and then I’ll meet you downstairs at the front door before they see you. If we leave early we can go back to yours so you can change or whatever, then just go to school.”

Jonathan’s hair is falling in front of his eyes and a shy smile is starting to spread across his face. He looks most attractive like that, in Nancy’s opinion. His gaze has butterflies slowly starting in her stomach.

“You’ve really thought this through, huh?”

The implications of his words and his teasing tone have her blushing again. “No. I’m just smart. I’m quick on my feet. You give me problems and I give you solutions.”

He’s smiling properly then. “Is that a Nancy Wheeler guarantee?”

“Absolutely.”

A beat passes and his smile fades. He looks forlorn as he says, “Not to be a downer, but, I don’t think I can. My mom will wonder where I am.”

Nancy bites her lip. Doesn’t notice the way Jonathan’s eyes immediately dip down to watch the movement. “What time does she get home?”

“Uh...” He thinks for a second. “Eleven.”

“You can call her,” Nancy says and nods her head, encouraging him to agree. “Use the phone in my room. She’s cool with you staying over, right? You’ve come over in the middle of the night enough times because of my nightmares. I’m sure she won’t mind.”

Jonathan, unlike Nancy, had never lied about where he was going in the dead of the night, and why. It was too cruel not to tell his mother where he was, after Will’s disappearance. Nancy had asked Jonathan about what Joyce thought of their arrangement once, but he only said she would always just smile and let him go.

She hasn’t been having nearly as many nightmares lately, and he’s only slept over a handful of times, on the really bad nights. Mostly she calls him, his voice soothing her.

He’d bought a phone for his room out of his work money specially.

The nights he has stayed over, they usually kept their distance in the bed; Nancy wanting to make contact, but not knowing how. She knows she’ll have to be the one to do it, because Jonathan would never presume. He wouldn’t want to overstep any boundaries, especially not after the photograph incident. No. Nancy knows that she’ll have to initiate it, and tonight is a perfect night to try. No nightmares, she can just talk to him and snuggle closer as they start to fall asleep.

Jonathan’s watching her attentively and she realises she must have spaced out. “Sorry.”

Smiling, he says, “It’s alright.”

“So you’ll stay?”

Karen is just calling them for dinner, shouting down to Mike in the basement when Jonathan replies. “Yeah. I’ll stay.”

  
  
  
  
  


After dinner, Mike once again retreats to the basement after half an hour of knowing looks at both Jonathan and Nancy. The pair pointedly ignores him through the meal and makes small talk with her mother instead.

Karen’s face gains the approving look it always does when Jonathan comes over.

Ever since she was young, Karen always used to say to her daughter, _that Jonathan Byers is a nice boy_. Nancy would reply, _but he’s weird. He has no friends!_ Karen would just look at her daughter a little sadly and say, _doesn’t make him a bad person, sweetheart._

Her father’s absent, out with his friends and Nancy’s glad of it. He’s not as kind to Jonathan as her mother. She doesn’t think Jonathan needs her father’s careless words anymore than the rest of them do.

Later, they make a show of him packing up his stuff. Jonathan says goodbye to Mrs. Wheeler and shouts down to Mike who shouts back, but doesn’t come up.

They’re alone at the door and she whispers, “We better say goodbye, just in case. You never know who’s watching.”

He nods solemnly and pulls her in for a hug. Nancy sighs and relaxes into it, glad at least that they had progressed to this. The hugs were never strictly platonic, but they only ever said goodbye this way when they were alone, silently revelling in having the other so close. She moves back first and he lets her, reaching for the door handle behind his back.

“I’ll leave it fifteen minutes. Sit in the car for a while. Think you can get away?”

“What do you take me for?”

Their conversation is held in hushed tones and Jonathan huffs a laugh. He seems in slight disbelief this is actually happening.

“See you soon.”

She waves him off and can’t help but giggle to herself. Even having Steve over at her house never gave her this kind of rush. She feels a bit ridiculous, getting overly excited like the teenage girls she’s seen in films, but she can’t help it. The wheels of her plan are being put into motion. _Finally._

“Don’t think I didn’t see that.”

Nancy whips round from where she’d still been facing the door to see her mother looking at her, holding a plate in one hand and a dish towel in the other.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her mother gives her a knowing smile. “Okay, well. When you want to talk about the fact you are head over heels for that boy, you know where I am.”

Karen retreats into the kitchen. Nancy can feel herself blushing again and hates it. She doesn’t know when she became this susceptible to others’ words, but it has _got_ to stop. Marching into the living room, she gathers up her flashcards and then says goodnight to her mother.

Hopefully she’ll get the hint not to disturb her.

Not that she thinks her mom would be angry if she caught Jonathan in her room. Probably the opposite, in fact. Ever since the Demogorgon had come and gone, Nancy’s mother had seen how close her children had grown; had told Nancy she realised it could have just as easily been one of them taken, not Will. Not that she completely knew the _real_ reason for Will’s disappearance, but their obvious torment had meant she’d started trying to understand her kids more. For those reasons, Nancy guesses her mother would be more likely to insufferably tell her _I told you so,_ than punish her for having a boy in her room.

Locking her door, Nancy scans her room and tidies a few things that are out of place. He’s seen it plenty of times before, so she doesn’t know why she’s getting so flustered. She sits and waits on her bed until he taps on her window what seems like a decade later.

Opening it up, he slips in. Jonathan used to be terrible at climbing in, all long limbs and crashing against the window frame. Practice makes perfect, she supposes.

Grabbing his hands under the pretence of ‘helping’ him in, she’s shocked at how cold they are. “Why’re you so _cold?_ ”

“I don’t know,” he replies, letting go of her hands to close the window. “Why don’t I just ask the weather? _Hey April, why are you so cold this year?”_

“Shut up,” she tells him and laughs. “Shall I put on some music?”

“Sure.”

He’s shrugging off his jacket, moving to lay it across the back of her desk chair. She puts on one of the mixtapes he made for her and sees the smile he tries to hide.

“Hopefully your mom won’t come up.”

“I don’t think she’ll hear us over the music. Just try not to stomp your big feet too loudly.”

“ _Hey!_ ”

They both laugh, and Nancy’s glad that Jonathan is the type of person who not only enjoys her verbal teasing, but often teases her back.

They talk for a while, not realising how quickly time passes by. Jonathan calls Joyce and Nancy pretends not to hear his gentle tone when he talks to his mother about her, feigning disinterest when his eyes dart over to see if she’s listening. Joyce seems to readily accept the plan, as Jonathan hangs up not long after he started the call.

“She’s okay?”

“Yeah good. I think she invited Hopper over actually, so probably best I’m not around.”

Nancy waggles her eyebrows as Jonathan makes a face of mild disgust.

He’s been documenting his mother’s blossoming love life to Nancy like the latest instalment of a TV show ever since December. Behind the pretend revulsion, Nancy knows he’s happy that his mother is happy. He’s always smiling when he regales Nancy with the latest happenings. _They went on a date tonight, and she told me not to wait up. Does she really think I_ want _to know what they’re doing at his place?_ If not that, it’s _Hopper came by again. He keeps clapping me on the shoulder and calling me son. Do you think he’s testing it out?_

No matter what happens, Nancy thinks Hopper is a good guy. He’s the _chief_ , after all. He respects Will and Jonathan, and more importantly Joyce. She knows Jonathan worries about his mother. He just wants her to be treated right, after his dad.

Sometimes it scares her how much she actually knows about Jonathan Byers.

Moving on from her thoughts, things become more sombre as she holds her nightclothes in her hand, meeting his eyes.

“Would you mind, uh, turning around? I don’t really want to leave and give my mom an excuse to check on me.”

“N-No...” Jonathan says, his nerves obviously returning. “’Course not. I’ll just—uh.”

He sits facing away from her on the bed and she’s simultaneously happy and slightly (but only slightly) sad he’s not the kind of guy who will turn around to try and take a peek. She quickly pulls on her shirt and pants, slipping the bra off from underneath her top with the eternal skill that a person who wears bras always seems to inherently possess.

“You... You can look now.”

She’s not quite sure why _she’s_ nervous, but the feeling fades when he turns to give her a warm smile.

She slips into the left side of the bed, same as the very first time, same as always, and busies herself with setting her alarm earlier than its usual time whilst he slips off his jeans. He always sleeps in a t-shirt, but after the first time he’d slept over, Nancy had awkwardly mentioned how uncomfortable it must be for him to sleep fully clothed. He’d shrugged it off, but she’d insisted he be comfortable if she was going to drag him out of his house to hers in the middle of the night.

A few visits after that, he’d started sleeping underneath the covers, too.

When Nancy turns back Jonathan’s there facing her, one hand under his pillow for the night and the other hovering in the space between them.

“Thanks,” he says softly in the low light. “For letting me stay over. It uh—it means a lot to me. That you’d do that.”

His comment throws her for a second, not believing that he thinks she would have done anything _else._ “You don’t have to thank me for that. I’d... Well I’d—I’d do anything. For you.”

The words come stumbling out, but once she speaks them, she finds that they’re true. His answering breathless look is all she needs right at that moment. “Me too, Nance. Me too.”

It feels like a good time to snuggle in with him, but for some reason she can’t bring herself to do it. With him lying there, gazing at her like she’s hung the stars in the sky; he’s impossibly close and agonisingly far away all at once. Nancy bites the inside of her cheek and reaches for his left hand that’s under the pillow, taking it into her right as she shifts onto her back. He does the same, mirroring her, but neither of them speaks for a long time.

Just as she’s drifting off to sleep, she hears a faint, “Nancy?”

“Mhm?”

Whatever he replies is lost to her unconsciousness.

  
  
  
  
  


Nancy gasps awake from a nightmare and checks her clock. 3:18 A.M.

Sighing, she assesses her position. She and Jonathan have shifted closer in the night, not touching, but close, both on their sides facing each other. She’d fallen asleep to them still holding hands. _We must have let go sometime in the night,_ she thinks regretfully.

Regardless of their position, seeing Jonathan lying peacefully next to her helps calm down her breathing enormously.

Although she’s quickly relaxing back into sleep, her sudden movement must have jolted Jonathan despite their lack of contact, as he sleepily murmurs, “Nance?”

She watches the way he struggles to open his eyes, giving up in the end. His hair is already a mess and she knows from experience it’ll be even worse come morning. The thought makes her smile.

“I’m okay, promise.”

“Mmm, ‘kay,” he mumbles. Just as she thinks he’s gone back to sleep, he pulls her closer, dragging her in by the waist so she settles against his chest, head cradled by his neck. Nancy knows he’d never have the courage to do it whilst awake. His sleepy state has made him forget himself.

“Night,” he says, voice faint as he’s pulled back under.

Nancy breathes out a happy sigh. “Night, Jonathan.”

  
  
  
  
  


A couple of days after their sleepover, Nancy’s swapping books at her locker when it’s forcefully slammed in her face, making her jump back in fright.

Reeling from a scare that early in the morning, she meets the eyes of Steve, who’s grinning at her and shaking his head, hair bouncing.

“Hello to you too,” Nancy says irritably. “That was not cool.”

She and Steve had maintained a somewhat tentative friendship after their break up. Not straight away, but eventually. After his constant badgering, cheeky smiles and friendly jokes, she decided it was stupid to ignore him completely—it’s not like he’s a bad guy after all. Nancy can put up with Tommy and Carol’s death stares if it means she and Steve are okay.

“Ouch, someone’s moody this morning.”

She looks at him disdainfully. “Some people prefer _not_ to have locker doors slammed in their faces, who would’ve guessed?”

Nancy opens her locker again and Steve pokes her with his index finger, retracting it just as fast as if burnt. “ _Ow_. You’re on fire today, Nancy Wheeler.”

“Did you actually want something?” She tries to stop her smile coming through. He really is an idiot.

“Look, just ‘cause you’re mad you’re not sucking face with Byers yet, don’t take it out on me.”

She pauses.

“ _What?_ ”

Staring at him, she regrets her obvious reaction, but can’t help feeling shocked at his casual reference to Jonathan. It’s as if he knows exactly what she’s been thinking.

“You heard,” he says smirking at her. “It’s okay; you can be honest with ol’ Steve. It’s written all over your face.”

She’s blushing now, can feel it creeping up her neck and all she can think is _deny, deny, deny,_ like an alarm ringing in her head.

Deciding to feign innocence, she says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It hadn’t worked on her mother, and it doesn’t work on Steve either. “Wow,” he says, mocking her. “That was poor, Nance. You didn’t even _try_.” He shakes his head. “You can’t lie to The Steve.”

Rolling her eyes at his dramatic antics, she closes her locker and prepares to leave him and his bravado alone in the hall. “We’re just friends.”

Steve tuts at her. She can’t believe they’re actually having this conversation. “How many times have you used _that_ one before?”

The redness in her cheeks doesn’t seem to want to fade any time soon, and Nancy is annoyed at herself. She doesn’t know why it’s so embarrassing to talk about this with him; maybe because it’s partially they reason they broke up in the first place. Maybe because she lost her virginity to him, but. Whatever.

“Seriously, Nance,” he says, smile dropping. “It’s obvious you two like each other... You make doe eyes all time and it’s like watching _Flashdance_ , except you’re not a dancer and Byers doesn’t own a steel mill.”

“We are nothing like _Flashdance_ ,” Nancy says, giving him a look. “You watch too many romance films for your own good. I bet you’ve been to see Footloose as well, haven’t you?”

He grins, only saying, “You know me, I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

She laughs and he takes hold of her shoulders gently, looking serious again. “I mean it, Nancy. There’s no point waiting around. Just go for it. And stop giving me that weird look! I know we were together, but it’s obvious he makes you happy. I want you to be happy. It’s a no-brainer.”

“Thanks for the advice Steve,” she says smiling awkwardly. Being honest is probably her best bet at this point. “But we’re going at our own pace. Things will... Work out.”

He bites the inside of his cheek, assessing her and considering that response. Seemingly satisfied, he says, “Okay. Make sure they do. Your face is too pretty to frown.”

Nancy grins, glad to see Steve is still a charmer. He’s grinning down at her too, and she’s contented by the fact that they at least get to have this.

Then his eyes widen. “Think fast, it’s Romeo at six o’clock!”

She doesn’t turn, knowing Jonathan will stop to talk to her as he always does, regardless of Steve’s presence. They frequently meet at her locker at the start of school. The fact that it makes her smile just that bit wider during the rest of the day is purely coincidence.

 _You’re not even convincing yourself anymore, Wheeler,_ Nancy thinks with an internal groan.

“Johnny Boy!” Steve exclaims when Jonathan comes to stand just behind Nancy. “We were just talking about you!”

“Yeah?” He asks quietly.

Despite Jonathan and Nancy’s blossoming friendship, he still isn’t so good around other people. The Jonathan that tended to keep himself to himself remained, and faced a big challenge in front of someone like Steve, who practically has _EXTROVERT_ tattooed across his forehead. Sometimes Jonathan will shrink in front of people louder or more flamboyant than himself, and it makes Nancy want to take his hand and squeeze it in reassurance.

“All good things, all good,” Steve says with a toothy grin. “I was just going. Places to be, people to see and all that. But seeing your gorgeous faces is definitely a highlight.”

“Sure it is,” Jonathan says and laughs. The two boys have been getting on a lot better these days, for Nancy’s sake if nothing else. The mutual animosity is mostly put behind them. “I’m sure mine absolutely makes your entire week.”

Steve shakes his head in mock disappointment. “Jonathan Byers, I do _not_ appreciate your sarcasm. Just for that, I’ll make sure I see your beautiful face every day this week.”

He starts to walk away from them, backwards, and people manage to dive out of his way before he hits them, used to his flair for melodramatics. There’s about ten paces between them and him when he stops, pointing at Nancy. “Remember what I said: ‘Operation _Flashdance_ ’ is go!”

With that, he faces the other way, walking forwards again and then rounds a corner, leaving her and Jonathan alone.

Nancy turns to face him. “What was that about?” Jonathan asks, smiling a small smile and looking at her with bright eyes.

“Just Steve being Steve,” she replies, rolling her eyes. “Being ridiculous, making up metaphors for my life, the usual.”

“Where would you be without Steve Harrington?” He’s laughing, his tone not portraying the words in the harsh way it might have a few months ago. “And Flashdance, really?”

“Well, I know who I’ll be taking to see chick flicks in the future.”

“No!” Jonathan says way too quickly. He seems to realise this, but carries on nonetheless. “I’d see a chick flick with you. Y’know, if—if you wanted me to. Come with you, that is. Not that I expect you to want me to, but I would. If you did.”

His stammering is endearing to Nancy, who’s noticed its pointed absence over the months their friendship has grown. He may still talk quietly, but rarely finds it difficult to get words out in front of her anymore; the by-product of them being so comfortable around each other.

The only time he ever really stumbles over his words around her now is when he’s nervous, and this realisation makes her stomach flutter.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

Silence lapses between them and they end up just smiling at each other, as they usually do.

She wants to say _go on then, take me to the movie theatre tonight_ , but somehow knows it’s not the right time.

“That’s... Good to know.” If she thought he was the type of guy to rub the back of his neck when feeling nervous, he’d definitely be doing it right now. Instead, he just gives her a somewhat awkward smile, still not knowing how far he’s allowed to push and test the boundaries between them before it’s _too far_. Wanting to give him an out, she says, “Will you make me mixtapes based on the soundtracks, too?”

“You might have to wait a while,” he says, adjusting the strap of his bag, trying to appear nonchalant. Nancy sees right through that. “Ever since Will and Mike found out about the last three I made you, all the boys have been demanding one.”

She smiles fondly at him. “Seems like someone’s a popular guy all of a sudden.”

“They just use me for my art.” If he was someone else more dramatic, like Steve, he’d play up to the potential comedy of that statement. “I’m sure I can make time for you, though.”

That tell-tale blush is creeping up again and Nancy tries to will it away. “That’s sweet of you.”

“I know,” he tells her, and she thinks he might be smirking, just a little bit. “Let me walk you to class.”

He looks at her for a few seconds and then takes off, leaving her standing by her locker as he starts to walk toward their English classroom.

“We’re in the _same class!_ ” Nancy exclaims, speeding after him. “And you can’t exactly walk me if you just leave me standing there by myself.”

“Aww,” he coos at her. It’s loud enough for her to hear even though he doesn’t turn around, the gentle teasing in his voice carrying behind him. “Wouldn’t that just be _such_ a shame?”

The subtle slowing of his pace that allows her to fall into step with him lets her know he thinks it probably would be a shame, actually.

  
  
  
  
  


They’re at her house again and it’s a Saturday. All four of the boys are downstairs in the basement, planning a two day long campaign since they’ve all been allowed to sleep over. Jonathan had come over to drop Will off, but stayed for Nancy.

The two are standing idly in the kitchen, Nancy pouring iced tea for them as they talk about college applications.

“You should go for that scholarship,” Nancy says to him. “Your photography’s so good, I’m sure NYU would love to have you.”

“I don’t know—” he says and accepts the drink with a “thanks,” in the middle of his sentence. “—I’m not sure I even want to go, after everything. How can I just leave my mom and Will by themselves?”

She looks at him a little sadly. “You can’t just put your life on hold for everyone else, as difficult as it will be to leave.”

“I guess not,” he says and they take a simultaneous sip of their respective drinks. “Where do you want to go?”

“I’m not sure...” she says, mimicking him. “I was thinking maybe Columbia?”

“That would be amazing!” Jonathan says and looks at her as if he’s asking her a silent question.

She answers him. “Yeah, and we’d be... close.”

“Is that something you... want?” Nancy can tell he’s not sure what angle to approach this from. She’s not quite sure herself. Columbia is a _good_ place to study. It just so happens to be close to Jonathan, too.

Why shouldn’t she have the best of both worlds?

“You’re the only person who understands me right now and I... I don’t want to lose that. It’s not like we’d be going to the same university but... I’d know you’re close, if I needed you.”

Jonathan’s looking at her in awe and seems to be nodding his head without even realising it. His attention is focused solely on her and it makes her falter. They both put down their drinks.

“I’d like that too,” he all but whispers. She can feel herself slowly inching closer to him as he does the same.

They keep moving in as if pulled by the other, Jonathan’s hand coming up to gently cradle her cheek. His fingers stretch right back to her ear and under her jaw, his thumb brushing tenderly under her eye. Nancy can’t believe this is about to happen, right here in her kitchen. She can feel his breath on her face as he leans in further, just about to place his lip on top of hers—

“Hey Nancy, where did you put the—oh _shit_.”

They scramble apart and see Mike standing there in the entryway to the kitchen, eyes wide and mouth hanging open a bit. Nancy doesn’t even berate him for his language; too shocked as the three of them stand there, Mike’s eyes flitting between her and Jonathan.

He bolts for the basement and they hear his feet thundering on the steps and Nancy winces, hearing the loud _Guys! Guess what?_ as Mike’s voice carries up to them.

“I’ll uh—I’ll just go,” Jonathan says and all but runs out himself. She can’t say she blames him. If this wasn’t her house, she’d escape before the four boys trapped her with their inevitable flurry of questions, too.

She’s going to _kill_ Mike.

  
  
  
  
  


The next day, Will’s waiting for Jonathan to come and take him home after their sleepover.

Nancy’s waiting for him too.

They haven’t spoken since yesterday’s aborted kiss, and she’d been mostly sticking to her bedroom so as to avoid the curious stares and questions of the younger boys, who she imagines got a very lively rendition from Mike of the phrase _Nancy and Jonathan were about to kiss!_

The only time she’d seen Mike had been late last night. After somewhat permanently retreating to her bedroom, she’d begrudgingly gone downstairs to get herself a glass of water. Mike had been there too, getting his own and she’d waited for him to be done, accepting his murmured _Sorry, Nancy_ , with a curt nod.

She’s sitting at the top of the stairs when she hears footsteps and voices underneath her.

“So, did you have a good time?”

 _Jonathan_. _He must have come in downstairs_ , she thinks sadly. _Is he purposely avoiding me?_

“Yeah,” Will replies, sounding tired.

“Awesome.”

Even Jonathan’s voice sounds a little off, more brittle than usual. Nancy’s just about to call out to him and make her presence known when Will says: “So what happened between you and Nancy?”

She doesn’t think anyone would blame her for eavesdropping, not _really_.

“What do you mean?” The two come to a stop, and Nancy shrinks back to make sure they won’t see her sitting there listening to them.

“You _know_ what I mean,” Will says with typical twelve-year-old frustration. “Did you kiss her?”

Nancy can see Jonathan rubbing the back of his hand across his forehead. He lowers it and she observes that he looks tired, like he’s been up thinking about it all night.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

Jonathan always makes a conscious effort to be kind to his brother, regardless of what happened. He loves his family so much, but Nancy can tell he’s trying really hard not to sound frustrated by all the questions.

“I don’t know, buddy. Just one of those things.”

“What does that mean?” Will asks bewildered. “Are you _going_ to kiss her? You do like her right?”

Jonathan studies his younger brother for a second. “Why should I tell you? So you can go back and tell the others?”

Will hangs his head, flushing and looking suitably guilty, because they both know that’s _exactly_ what he was going to do.

Jonathan takes pity on him and continues. “Yeah I do like her, but I don’t want to kiss her and have her regret it. I don’t know if yesterday was a spur of the moment thing or if she wants to actually... be with me.”

Nancy’s heart aches to be hearing this. She knows she shouldn’t be listening, but sometimes he finds it so hard to open up to her. It’s nice to know she isn’t alone with her feelings, not that she ever really suspected that she was, but the conformation is reassuring.

“I think she does. Mike says she talks about you all the time when you’re not here.”

That makes Nancy flush all the way down to her neck. She is _definitely_ going to be having serious words with Mike when this all blows over.

Jonathan only laughs, ruffling his little brother’s hair to immediate protests. “I don’t think that’s something she would have wanted me to know without her permission.” Will just shrugs.

“Blame Mike, not me.”

Shaking his head, Jonathan ushers Will toward the door. “C’mon, we need to be going home.”

Nancy’s debating in her head whether she’s going to say something to him or not when she hears herself say, “Wait. Jonathan, is that you?”

Standing up, she resigns herself to the fact she’s sealed her fate. Still in her pyjamas, she feels slightly vulnerable as she walks downstairs and then Jonathan’s there, looking at her with hopeful eyes.

“I’ll wait downstairs,” Will says, eager to spend as much time with his friends as he can.

“Jonathan,” she says in a hushed tone once the younger Byers brother is out of an earshot. “Come up? I don’t want them listening to us.”

“Sure,” he agrees somewhat awkwardly and she decides to sit back where she’d started, him joining her on the narrow stairway. Their shoulders are pressed together and Nancy hopes he can’t feel her shaking slightly.

The phone rings but both ignore it as it goes off. Nancy assumes her mother’s taken the call.

She doesn’t think he knows she was listening here before, so she doesn’t reference that to him. Instead she says, “About yesterday—” at the same time he says, “—I just wanted to say...”

They both stop and chuckle a little. “You first,” he tells her.

Nancy starts again. “About yesterday... I’m sorry Mike interrupted us. I didn’t want you to leave...”

Whatever he was going to say, he was obviously not expecting her to say that.

There’s silence between them for a moment before Jonathan replies, “I didn’t want to leave, either. I just thought you might want some space.”

It’s the first time they’ve even come _close_ to actually talking about the relationship that’s clearly blossoming between them. Yesterday’s almost-kiss is the furthest they’ve gotten toward actually doing something about it, and probably the boldest move Jonathan’s made yet.

“I think we’re both past the point of pretending we don’t want something to happen,” Nancy says, deciding that she’s had enough of waiting once and for all.

Jonathan’s fiddling with his hands, not looking at her. “I just don’t want to lose you if... If it doesn’t work out.” The admission seems to be a difficult one.

“You can’t think like that, Jonathan,” Nancy says almost urgently. “I had a conversation with Mike a while ago now, and he told me it was stupid not to be with the person I wanted to when they’re right there in front of me, and that’s you.”

“I want to be with you too, Nancy,” he says, finally meeting her eyes. “No matter what happens, I’ll always be right here. I—”

He gets cut off as Nancy’s mother calls up to them. “That was Joyce on the phone, Nance. Is Jonathan up there with you? She wants the boys to come home as soon as possible, she got home early and made dinner!”

They look at each other, anguish in their eyes as they realise they’re going to have put this conversation on hold for now.

“After school tomorrow,” he says as he gets up, “Meet me by my car. We can talk at my place. Mom’s at work and Will’s going to this AV Club meeting.”

“Okay,” she says sadly, not wanting to let him go when they’re so close.

“Until tomorrow,” Jonathan murmurs, looking as if he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t know what it is.

“Jonathan, come _on!_ ” Will calls from somewhere near the front door.

Impulsively, Jonathan leans in, cupping the back of Nancy’s head and placing his lips to her forehead in a tender kiss. Then he turns around and leaves, him and his flannel shirt disappearing around the corner as Nancy lets out a sigh.

_So close._

  
  
  
  
  


Lying on her bed seems to be the thing to do now, Nancy thinks. When she needs an escape from the world, this is a good place to go. Her sanctuary.

She’s made lots of good memories in this room. She can picture Steve studying at the end of the bed in her mind’s eye. Barbara pulling tops out of her closet to find the perfect one for their trip to the beach at Dunes National Park on the shore of Lake Michigan. Jonathan, lying in bed beside her, breathing deeply in sleep, or listening to music as they compete to see who can do the best shoulder stand.

Those thoughts make her smile.

Tomorrow, Jonathan will be waiting for her after school. Monday’s are notoriously bad days for them, not having a single class together, and usually missing each other in the lunch time rush.

Waiting around for tomorrow afternoon to drag itself to Nancy is agonising. Already, she feels pathetic for wanting to call Jonathan so she can talk to him again, about anything. She doesn’t care at this point.

Trying to take her mind off of things, she spies the picture of her and Barb in their sunglasses that she could never quite bring herself to take down. Can hear her voice, even now, saying _Jonathan Byers, of all people? You’re ridiculous, Nancy Wheeler._

“You still love me though,” Nancy says to no one and has to bite her lip to stop any tears pooling in her eyes.

Nancy tries really hard to forget the raw agony that immediately followed Barb’s death. The fact she had had to keep it a secret placed extra weight on her shoulders, too. Nancy distinctly remembers lashing out at people, saying, _for all we know she could be lying dead somewhere!_ People seemed to get the message after that.

She tries to remember that Barb wouldn’t have wanted the world to leave a bright girl like Nancy behind, even if that’s what had happened to her.

She tries to remember that she has to move on; can’t get stuck in the past forever.

It’s hard, but she tries.

She has to try.

For Barb.

  
  
  
  
  


Monday passes by as slow as molasses in January, and Nancy feels as if she’s turning around to look at the clock so much her neck is going to get stuck at an awkward angle.

When the bell rings, she bolts out of her last class, trying really hard not to run as she makes a break for the parking lot. Jonathan always parks his car on the far side and today she really, _really_ hates him for it.

Nancy gets there before him, so she leans up against it and lets out a sigh. Probably best he didn’t see her practically running here, anyway.

She doesn’t want to seem _too_ eager.

He comes into view and Nancy quickly looks down, inspecting her nails and trying to not let a smile bubble up from under her casual façade. She hears his footsteps draw closer and her heart beat quickens.

“You haven’t been waiting long, have you?”

Glancing up then, she sees his lopsided smile, one corner of his mouth higher than the other as he regards her affectionately.

“Ten years. I’m Nancy from the future, I just came back to make sure you actually showed up this time.”

“So I didn’t the first time round?” He plays along as he unlocks the car doors.

“No. We’re still trying to figure out what happened to you. You seem perfectly fine to me though. Maybe the disappearance doesn’t happen in this timeline.”

He’s looking at her like he wants to say something like, _you’ve been watching too many sci-fi films with Mike_ , but he doesn’t, just gives her fond eyes and says, “You’re looking good for ten years older, Nancy.”

His comment makes the inevitable blush rise and she untucks her hair from behind her ears in case they start to go red too.

They don’t talk for the rest of the ride. Nancy resists the urge to rhythmically tap her fingers against the window as she sits in the passenger seat. The anticipation of whatever is going to happen once they get back to Jonathan’s house is putting Nancy on edge.

As he parks the car in front of his house, she feels she has to break the silence. They start talking about an argument she had with one of her classmates today in calculus.

“I just wanted to say, that’s such _bullshit!_ Obviously I wasn’t going to in front of any of the teachers, but—what?”

He’s watching her with a sort of dazed look on his face. They’re walking through the front door as he says, “Nothing. Just you,” and she closes it shut behind her.

The conversation tapers off, and they’re left with both of them watching the other, uncertain where to pick up from after yesterday’s interruption.

“So...” Nancy starts and gazes at him hopefully.

Jonathan seems to square his shoulders then, looking as though he’s ready for battle, and Nancy would laugh if the implications of the action didn’t make her breath hitch.

He’s getting closer now and she can’t believe it, he’s actually going to kiss her.

Pulling her to him, he holds her face in his large hands lovingly and brushes his lips against hers softly, unsure. She guesses he’s never done this before and she’s secretly glad that she’s the first to experience this side of Jonathan.

She presses in again, kissing him more firmly. Her left hand goes to his side, the other cupping the palm he still has against her face. It’s simultaneously everything and nothing like she thought it would be.

His confidence grows as Nancy doesn’t pull away, his free hand not trapped by Nancy’s slides around to the back of her neck, trying to bring her as close as physically possible.

It’s not desperate, but not slow either. It’s somewhere in between both and full of joy, like laughing so hard it starts to hurt, or until you cry.

Nancy pulls back first, standing on her tiptoes so she can rest her forehead against his. Sensing her precarious position, he takes his hand out from under hers and puts it around her waist, holding her steady. The free hand is still cupping the back of her neck. Resting both of hers on his shoulders, she still can’t believe he _finally_ did it.

When she opens her eyes, his are still closed, like he’s still savouring the moment.

“Hey,” she whispers.

He opens his eyes. “Hey.”

Pressing another, chaste kiss against her lips, Jonathan moves out of her personal space slightly, but doesn’t let her go. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”

The admission makes her face light up. Usually it’s her doing most of the talking, most of the confessing. She can’t help but wonder if he’d gotten to finish that night, before Steve came banging on the door in an attempt to apologise, where would they be now?

Shaking her head, she replies, “Me too,” because right now the past doesn’t matter. It’s all about this moment. “So... what happens now?”

Nancy knows their future’s not only his decision, but she knows what she wants, and she wants to hear him say it.

“I guess... I guess it means we’re uh... together now?”

He sounds so doubtful, as if she’s going to contradict him after waiting months for that kiss.

She smiles and says, “My boyfriend, Jonathan Byers,” because it's finally true.

“My girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler,” he counters, eyes filled with wonder.

Nancy’s laughing brightly when he pulls her in for another long kiss. She's been waiting so long for this moment. As they come together, Nancy smiles into it, feeling giddy as she's met with Jonathan's answering smile against her lips.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> After everyone’s lovely comments on part one, this was fairly daunting to write. I tried to capture their pure awkward cuteness in a realistic way, so I hope I stayed true to their characters! 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts? :-)


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